


The third time

by Gabriel4Sam



Series: To keep him [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Except Sidious, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Possessive Satine, Post The Lawless, Public Sex, Satine Kryze Lives, Sex, very dead Sidious is the best Sidious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel4Sam/pseuds/Gabriel4Sam
Summary: She had already given  back Obi-Wan twice and she wouldn’t do the same mistake a third time.Or, after the end of Palpatine, Satine conquers her prize right on the dead Sith's desk.





	The third time

"Had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order." Obi-Wan had said and Satine had never forgotten. Those words had warmed her in difficult hours, those words had been her beacon in a galaxy slowly losing itself in war, a fire in her soul when Death Watch had ravaged her world, unmaking in so little time years of hard work. They had thrilled and desolated her soul at the same time, a confession of love lost to duty, the shadows of a path not taken.

She had been a dutiful ruler, she adored her world, her people, and before the latest burst of galactic stupidity known at the clone wars, she had been content. Now, she was thinking of a galaxy where she would have been happy and mourning it every night, when she was finally alone.

Perhaps it was that, that and the stress of the long weeks since Obi-Wan had rescued her that explained her reaction that day. She had already given that man back twice. Once, when they had been younger and when he had followed Qui-Gon back to the Temple, letting her so alone in a too big palace. A second time when they had go back from Mandalore, only escaping Darth Maul and his brother by miracle; when she had disembarked from the Twilight, her head high, and still feeling, like a phantom memory, his body against hers. She had had beard burns for long, all over her body, but not long enough and when her skin had been once again unblemished, she had wept.

She had already given that man back twice and she wouldn’t do the same mistake a third time.

When the fire had been put out, when people had run to the Senate, she had been here, with Padme Amidala, to see the corpse of Palpatine and the Team, exhausted, grim faced, but alive, almost inexplicably when you thought of what they had faced up.

The young Naboo Senator had flown herself into Skywalker’s arms. Her gaze on Palpatine’s corpse still cooling in two unequal parts, Satine had felt anger rising in her soul at the idea of what she could have lost. She had taken hold of Obi-Wan and sworn she would never let go, and bullied him into leaving the Senate’s rotund for its hallways.

“Satine.” He had hissed, “People could see.”

“I don’t kriffin care!” She had hissed in return before pushing him in the first door she had found, Palpatine’s office itself.

“Satine?”

She pushed him onto Palpatine’s desk and kissed him, deeply, almost savagely.

“You could have died.” She accused, when his lips had been ravaged enough.

“It’s one of the perk of the jobs?” He tried, a little stupidly, and she growled and attacked again, her mouth hard and demanding. One of her hands was fisted in the linen of his tunics and the other already attacking his belt when he realized where this was going.

“Satine!” He protested but it didn’t escape her that his hands were almost as tight on her waist.

“I have been an idiot long enough. I have endured enough of the world without you.” She kissed him again.

“Come with me. Come with me to Mandalore.”

“Of course, I will help you, Satine, you know it was never in question.”

“I’m not speaking of taking it again from the Death Watch. Come with me and stay. I’m keeping you. I want you. My consort, my lover, my husband, every way I can keep you, have you, tie you to me.”

Her hand had won against the belt and she was already pushing all the layers away from her prize.

“Someone could come!”

“I don’t care.” She enunciated, feeling competitive and drunk on it.

“Let them come. Let them see. See that you’re mine.”

And Obi-Wan, the man that had never been chosen, was lost and found on the same breath. He was exhausted, truly, but between his fatigue state and her persistence, it was not even in question that she would succeed in making him harden under her touch. Leaning on him, Satine was still speaking in his ear, very matter-of-fact, and in her words, he was a cherished treasure, a beloved man, and not the tired, too fast aged and lost soldier he saw in the mirror every day.

He didn’t care anymore that the door wasn’t locked. He didn’t care about the body Anakin and he had left on the Senate’s floor, and about the fact that any minute now, officials would come into this office with seals to ensure the integrity of the future investigation. He didn’t care about the other Jedi that were probably searching for him. He even wanted it, in a way. For people to see him as he was, hers, on his back on the desk of the man he had just killed, his pants and tunic open, Satine’s hand commanding his pleasure and her mouth stealing his breath from kisses to kisses.

He surrendered, body and soul, trembling under her. His hands shook when he helped her divest on the floor her underwear, using the Force to tear it, to be sure she wouldn’t have to stand up. He surrendered when she rose above him, her flowing skirt covering them and sliding onto his skin, a delicious torture.

“I’m yours.” He babbled, when he felt the wetness of her sex against his.

“Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Satine, yoursyoursyours.” He couldn’t stop a shout when she began riding him and his skull banged on the desk. Let them hear, he thought. Let everyone hear as she made him moan without mercy, as she took everything that he was to ruin it and reshape it. She was as fierce as her warrior’s ancestors, merciless, almost cruel in her moves, and he was hers.

In her arms, he broke, finishing really too fast, in a violent yell that was probably heard on the other side of the enormous building. As he came into her, Satine felt almost high.

She was never giving him back.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr too, with the same username, come and say hi, I don't bite !


End file.
